


Long Journeys Made Short

by AceQueenKing



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Quarian Culture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 22:12:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4238448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceQueenKing/pseuds/AceQueenKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kal’s not a great conversationalist, but Tali finds a way to pass the time with him on the way to Haelstrom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Journeys Made Short

Kal’Reegar might just be the most polite soldier she’s ever met.

There’s never a time he forgets to say “ma’am”; never a time he forgets to salute. He never forgets she’s in charge. He obeys every single one of her commands to the letter.

She hates it.

She misses the Normandy. Even Garrus. Garrus was an utter  _bosh’tet_ , but at least he talked to her.

Kal’Reegar is no Garrus.

He’s respectful. Quiet. He does not argue with her when she insists that the Nexus is the best omni-processor (which it is, but only if you know how to overclock it like  _she_  does). He does not play games with her drone, does not tell her she’s full of shit for being an quarian with a preference for shotguns. He certainly doesn’t make any small talk with her in their far-too-small shuttle, with a far-too-small team for what they’re planning on accomplishing on Haelstrom.

She has gotten used to the noise, the argument, and  _life_  of the Normandy.

Now her fire team just feels strangely empty.

Kal is not Garrus, or Shepard, or even Kaidan. If he wasn’t fidgeting, she wouldn’t know if he had a pulse.

Although he’s not exactly  _bad_  company. He’s quiet, sure, but he’s a handsome man, even with the suit. Even after two years back on the flotilla, she hasn’t lost her appreciation for the curves and dips of a quarian male’s body.

She admires him in the too-silent cruiser. Kal doesn’t return her stare, but he doesn’t look away either.

_(She hates the new shuttle engines; too quiet. How would she be able to tell when the engines stop working?)_

She decides to attempt small talk.

“So…Kal’Reegar. Your whole family serves in the marines, right?”  
  
“Yes ma’am.” He unfolds his arms, and she notes the strong musclesthat roll effortlessly in his movements. Reegars are famous for their strength; Kal seems to live up to the family reputation.  
  
“Were you born on the Neema?”   
  
The Reegars and the Gerrells have long been the spearhead of the flotilla. It’s evident he’s had a lot of combat training – the typical one-size-fits-all enviro-suit lays bare the sculpture of his muscles.

She bites her lip.  
  
“No ma’am.” He shakes his head. “My mother and I were stationed on the _Quib Quib_ until I was around seven.”  
  
_Until you were old enough to start your training, you mean_  she thinks,but does not say. She knows the feeling. She was born on the Rayna, but only has the dimmest memories of her father as a child.

“I see,” She says. Kal’Reegar nods. His eyes drift lower, roaming her body as if he is scanning her, but he does not say a word. She’s not sure if he really is on alert for danger, or if he just finds the view pleasing.

“Kal, if you want, you can call me Tali.” She says.

“I, uh, I see, ma’am.” He nods. “Thank you ma’am.”

He didn’t take the bait. Tali holds back a sigh.

“Kal, do you have any input on what formations we should use on Haelstrom?”  
  
It’s a filler topic – they’ve already gone over this - but Kal opens up.

“I was, uh, thinking ma’am, we don’t have enough people here to mount a defense if we find Geth.”  
  
“That’s true.” Although she doesn’t want to think about that possibility, it’s definitively there. Their intel for this mission is all but laughable.

“I think we should run this quiet, just in case.” For the first time, she notices how expressive his eyes are – even through the mask, she catches the thoughtful squint. “Be as invisible as possible.”  
  
“Very cautious of you.” She says. “Are you expecting trouble?”  
  
He shrugs, and she notices how his muscles flex as he does. He has  _strong_  arms. Arms that could pick her up, carry her, hold her as she shudders.

Arms she wants to touch, but does not.

“I find it’s always best to expect trouble, ma’am.” He folds his arms as his gaze moves forward, a sweep of her skin that titillates her as much as it makes her uncomfortable. “Prefer being presently surprised to the alternative.”  
  
“That’s true. If the Geth take us by surprise…” She trails off. Slowly, deliberately, she stretches out her arms, jutting her out her small chest and letting her hips curve in a pattern that Raan once whispered would be irritable to men when she got  _just_  a little older.

And she is a little older, now.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches for his reaction.

Kal keeps looking; he doesn’t stare, but his eyes never wander from her body until she stops moving.

Hmm.

Well, he’s not Shepard – not even Garrus – when it comes to small talk, but he isn’t bad to look at.

Kal repeats her gesture, his arms swinging wide and showing off the fine musculature in his arms. His legs, she notices, are long and lean.

Good running legs. Powerful.

“You’re right, ma’am,” he says, and she doesn’t imagine the sudden richness to his voice. She leans forward. “On a planet as hot as Haelstrom, staying in the shadows might just prove wise. Even our envirosuits can’t hold up to that kind of…heat.”

Hmm. Not such a bad conversationalist after all, she decides.

She slips out of her seat, swinging her hips as she moves next to him.

He looks down as she grabs his hand. “Do you have a plan for how to …proceed… if we find Geth, Kal?”  
  
His hand squeezes hers, and oh, he is  _strong_. “Well….” He brings his helmet toward her own, and they stay there a minute. His hand curls around her shoulder. “Would rather …show…. you my techniques for dealing with Geth, ma’am.”  
  
“You can do that.” She says, and his grip turns just a small bit tighter.

She leans into his shoulder as he tells her about the weaponry he’s stashed away for their mission and suddenly, the long journey seems far too short.

  


**Author's Note:**

> Written for a word prompt on tumblr. Prompt word was Gymnophoria - The sensation that someone is mentally undressing you.


End file.
